


Twenty-Five

by sillyboyblue



Category: The Hitcher (1986), Turks Fruit | Turkish Delight (1973)
Genre: John Ryder is Erik Vonk, M/M, Post-Movie(s), Reincarnation, mentions of Olga Stapels
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-18
Updated: 2016-12-19
Packaged: 2018-09-09 12:48:30
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 979
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8891350
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sillyboyblue/pseuds/sillyboyblue
Summary: Sometimes John can't tell whether it was Olga or Jim.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Vanfu](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Vanfu/gifts).



> Based on the prompt : "Jim and John have met before the events of the movie but neither remember (or do they ?)"

Jim was pacing around their appartment with a notebook and a pencil, making plans for future changes. The first thing on his list was painting the gray wall of their bedroom yellow.

John was sitting on the worn brown leather couch with his legs crossed. He was playing absent-mindedly with his wedding ring. 

Jim was considering yellow like dawn in the desert. He was a nostalgic. Those two days spent running away from John then eventually coming back to him seemed centuries away. In truth, only seven years had passed.

"How old are you now, Jim ?"

John's question did not faze Jim. It happened sometimes. John would forget informations that were not necessary to their survival. He would forget Jim's birthday, but never his blood type. 

"I'm turning twenty-five tomorrow."

Jim wondered if they would have the right shade of yellow at the store. He noticed how John was playing with his ring. 

"My wife left twenty-five years ago today."

Jim knew of John's past life. He had always been a hitchhiker, but instead of killing the girl who picked him up, he married her. Jim knew the whole story. Her name was Olga Stapels, she was eighteen at the time and John had loved her more than anything, maybe even more than Jim. But Jim did not envy her. He was grateful for her existence to have brought some good in John's, even for a fleeting instant. Jim also knew that John had never gone past the state of denial. He still called her his wife. He still wore his ring. He never said that she died, only that she left.

"I thought you were nothing like her..." 

John got up and walked up to Jim slowly. Finally he took Jim's face in his hands and stared into his eyes, as if searching for the answer to an unspoken question.

"... but you grow more and more like her each day."

Jim had accepted the fact that he was only a substitute for Olga. It did not hurt anymore.

"You purposefully picked someone who reminded you of her. That's all."

If he did, John still appeared to be missing something, even after all these years.

"Sometimes I can't tell whether it was you or her who picked me up that night seven years ago."


	2. Chapter 2

"Do you remember our first encounter ?"

Jim's birthday had been everything he could have wished for. Breakfast in bed, lunch in a fancy restaurant, and dinner under the stars.

They went to Children's Pool Beach because Jim would always be a kid to John, even at age fifty.

"How could I forget ?"

The sky reflected on the sea and no one could tell where each started and ended. 

"Why did you pick me up ?"

The soothing song of the sea almost lulled Jim to sleep as he leaned his head against John's shoulder.

"I thought it would help me stay awake. And I wanted to help you."

John draped an arm around Jim's shoulder and drew him closer. The stars seemed to shine just for them. It was not even cold.

"What a kind and benevolent soul, Jim."

Jim wrapped his arms around John's chest and stared at his moonlit face. His hair was turning whiter everyday. John would turn fifty soon. Jim had never been afraid of losing him, but as they were both growing older, the outcome of their relationship was becoming clearer. 

"What about you, why did you give me the bullets ?"  
"Same as why you gave me the lockpick."

If they were to stick together until the end, John would eventually die of old age, leaving Jim behind with half a life to live. Jim would lose John no matter what. It was only a matter of luck -- and time.

"Do you remember when I rode at the back of your bike ?"

John could not recall the last time he had been on a bike or the last bike he had owned. 

"I don't remember."

When was the last time he had ridden a bike ? It was certainly not here in San Diego where they had been living for a few years after growing tired of hotel rooms.

It was not in Chicago either, where they were hiding more than they were living in fear of bumping into one of Jim's relatives. Bike-riding together was out of the question.

"I don't remember that with you."

And it definitely was not in the desert of Texas. 

The only place John could think of was back in Holland. They had bikes there, plenty of them, even more than cars. But Jim was not there.

"But I remember it with Olga."

Jim's heart skipped a beat. He remembered it all very clearly, how John purposefully drove in front of moving cars just to piss the drivers off, how he snatched an ice cream from a passer-by's hand and shared it with Jim, how young and happy he looked. 

Too happy. Too young. Jim had never seen John like this.

Yet the memory was in his head and no one had put it there.

"What about when you showed me your workshop ?"

John spread his legs and tucked Jim between them.

"I couldn't have."  
"Why ?"

Jim leaned back against John's chest and John wrapped his arms around his torso.

"Because my workshop isn't in America."

John could feel Jim's pounding heart. What caused it to beat so ? Fear ? Excitement ? Confusion ? 

"So I guess we also did not walk on the beach all night until you found an old bottle of liquor. You drank from it..."  
"I drank from it..."  
"... and played dead. I got mad at you. I can't remember why."

Jim turned around to face John.

"I can't tell whether my memories are mine or hers." 

Jim looked so clueless and helpless and he reminded John of Olga -- now more than ever.

"Welcome back."


End file.
